


Go Home, Lucas

by ilostmyguntoday



Category: SKAM (France), Skam - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-03 20:47:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17884952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilostmyguntoday/pseuds/ilostmyguntoday
Summary: Lucas finds himself arguing with his friends at the friday night party, leading him to bump into Eliott and Lucille. Things escalate from there, and we see a side of Lucas and Eliott that we've never seen before.





	1. Go Home, Lucas.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very angsty and not entirely realistic version of the infamous Friday night party scene, where [Isak] witnesses [Even] kissing his ex girlfriend.

Friday 20:29  
“Guys, Daphné’s over there” Basile whispered to the three of them, despite how loud the music was playing, “Oh fuck, she’s totally checking me out!” Basile hissed, “guys what do I do?”  
Yann and Arthur looked at each other and nodded,  
“Don’t be yourself” Yann grinned, whilst Arthur slapped him solidly on the shoulder. Basile nodded fervently, “okay, got it. Don’t be myself” he repeated quietly, as if trying to memorise the advice. Arthur glanced over at Lucas next to them and felt worried. His friend had been pretty much silent all evening and hadn’t laughed once at any of the jokes they’d made to try and cheer him up.  
“Ça va, mec?” Arthur asked, to which Lucas nodded vaguely. Yann and Basile exchanged annoyed glances and shook their heads as they took swigs from their beers.  
“This party’s pretty sick though!” Yann cried out suddenly, slamming his beer down on to the counter next to him, “Come on, Lucas, have another beer and we can all go dance with the girls”  
“No, but thanks” Lucas responded coldly. Basile’s jaw tensed visibly, and Yann nudged him gently on the shoulder before exchanging more glances with Arthur.  
Arthur groaned, “Lucas, come with me to find the bathroom”  
Before Lucas could respond, Arthur was pulling him by the elbow away from the guys and out of the kitchen, wading through the sea of plastic cups and glass bottles on the floor. They finally came to a fairly empty spot in the hallway. Arthur sighed and turned to him,  
“Dude, what’s up with you?”  
“Nothing.”  
Arthur looked sceptical, “You’ve barely said a word all evening.”  
“Look, sorry if I don’t want to get wasted and embarrass myself like I do every weekend…”  
Arthur frowned in confusion, “Embarrass yourself?”  
Lucas rolled his eyes, “Well, just doing the same shit all the time can get old, you know? Sorry I’m not on the edge of my seat when Basile’s obsessing over Daphné, or when we smoke weed at some house party for the tenth Friday in a row, or get shitfaced and talk out our asses until 3am”  
Arthur stood stunned for a moment, the only noise between them coming from the steady bass music that was echoing throughout the house. Then Arthur spoke.  
“What, so every time I’ve busted my ass getting us beer, all those times you’ve said that each night has been the greatest time of your life, every time I’ve shared my weed with you and we get high and talk about life, it meant nothing? Great dude, thanks.”  
Lucas’ eyes softened, “No, I just-”  
“I’m sorry we can’t be more exciting for you.” Arthur shot back hotly, “I’m sorry if one of your best friends telling us about a girl he likes is just so tedious that you’d rather be a passive aggressive asshole than even try and be interested in anyone else besides yourself. Maybe we’re just not cool enough to hang out with the great Lucas Lallemant”  
“You know that’s not what I-”  
Arthur cut him off, “It’s exactly what you meant.”  
Lucas and Arthur stood in tense silence for a few seconds. Just when Lucas opened his mouth to speak-  
“Arthuurr!!!!”  
A very drunk Alexia interrupted Lucas’ sentence and came colliding into Arthur’s side, embracing him sloppily.  
“Alexxiiaa!” Arthur laughed, turning away from Lucas and their conversation. The two disappeared off together arm-in-arm back into the kitchen, leaving Lucas alone in the shadows of the hallway. ‘Time to get drunk’ thought Lucas.

Friday 21:14  
'Six? No, seven. No, six. Or was it eight?'  
Lucas stood in a daze, desperately trying to recall how many vodka shots he’d had. He’d been mixing drinks for a solid hour now, and it was a miracle he could even still stand. He’d wandered through the party many times, drunkenly trying to find Yann or Basile or Arthur, but they were nowhere to be seen. 'Maybe they’ve gone home', Lucas thought - with a twinge of regret souring his mouth. The floor may have been spinning for Lucas, but he could still clearly remember the argument he’d had with Arthur not an hour earlier.  
Lucas shook the thought away and wandered off to find something else to fill his now empty cup. Stumbling through the living room, it was now as densely packed as ever. The 9pm crowd were coming in, and soon there’d hardly be any space to move.  
Lucas stood on his tiptoes and managed to see his three friends tucked in the corner of the room surrounded by the foyer girls – all talking and laughing without him. Lucas knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but feel a biting resentment at the fact his friends hadn’t bothered to go looking for him. Neither had the girls for that matter. He felt the resentment bubble slightly up inside him as he started to walk towards them, his mind foggy with alcohol and bitterness. He pushed past couples grinding against each other and shimmied past the small clusters of people playing regrettable drinking games involving lighters and penknives. Lucas was almost by Yann when he was shoved into someone’s shoulder, causing him to stumble back a bit.  
“Oh fuck!” Lucas mumbled, turning around, “Sorry about that, man, I…”.  
The words died in Lucas’ throat as he stared directly into the eyes of Eliott, who likewise was also staring down at him in shock, clearly not expecting for them both to have been there. Lucas realised that this may be the first time he’d seen Eliott genuinely lost for words.  
“Eliott?” Lucas slurred, his large blue eyes searching the taller boys for an answer he hadn’t even asked a question for. Eliott looked down at him with sorrow, almost lost for any reason, any excuse, to why he did what he did.  
“Eli!” Lucille cried, emerging out of nowhere with two cans of Fanta in her hands, “I was thinking that we cut down on the alcohol tonight so that you can study tomorrow morning…”. She pushed past Lucas without looking at him and slipped her arms around Eliott’s neck, kissing him deeply on the lips. Lucas eyes were trained on the two in front of him, despite every fibre of his being screaming at him to look away. It was as if he were watching a plane nosedive into the ocean.  
Lucille pulled back from Eliott’s unresponsive frame in confusion, only to follow his gaze and find that Lucas was standing there as well. Her face dropped as she spared him a dirty look,  
“Oh. Lucas. I didn’t see you there.”  
Lucas could feel that anger bubble up inside him again. That rage that had felt all consuming yesterday was starting to envelop his senses as he watched Lucille’s hands trace up and down Eliott’s arm before clutching on to his hand. It made him even madder that Eliott clutched it back.  
“I was just um…” Lucas mumbled, trying to think of anything to distract himself from Eliott,  
“…I was just heading over to my friends”. He indicated to Yann a few metres away and Lucille smiled tensely, “Tell them I said hello!”  
Lucas nodded awkwardly, avoiding Eliott’s intent gaze fixed on him, before turning to walk away. 'Jesus, Lucas, pull yourself together', he told himself, 'just go apologise to Arthur and have a few laughs with the guys and forget about-'  
“God, what a stalker”  
Lucas stopped dead in his tracks. The sentence had carried itself far above the hubbub of the crowd, above the skull numbing thud of the eternal bass line that buzzed across the floor, and into Lucas’ mind. The word freak echoed around his head until it was the only thing he could hear. The humiliation, the rage, the disappointment…  
Lucas spun around to look back at Lucille, who was watching him guiltily.  
“Did you say something?” he asked  
“What’s it to you if I did? I can say whatever I want” Lucille shot back quickly, “It’s a free country”.  
Eliott looked back and forth between the two in dismay.  
Lucas felt the anger bubble up again,  
“Not if it involves calling someone a stalker” he said, as calmly as he could.  
Lucille turned to Eliott, slipping her hand back into his, “Are you going to let him speak to me like this?”  
Lucas’ gaze travelled slowly up to Eliott’s, where he suddenly felt a flash of anger at the beauty of those honey coloured eyes.  
“Do you want to tell her or should I?” Lucas said, cuttingly. Eliott stared at him in horror, like a cornered animal, before stepping between him and Lucille.  
“You’re drunk, Lucas. Maybe someone should take you Home…”  
“Maybe you can do it. You can kiss me in secret again” Lucas hissed. Eliott took a step back in shock, and Lucas’ drunken mind felt revived at the fact that he looked hurt.  
“Shall I tell her about the things we did? Or have you already told her, and she just sees me as the little gay freak who’s obsessed with you? Is that how you played it out? That you didn’t want to?”. Lucas’ words came out more hurt than he intended, and Eliott’s gaze weakened,  
“Don’t do this, Lucas. Please.”  
“Why should I listen to a word you say?”  
By now people were starting to look at them, and even Yann and Arthur had started to crane their necks to see what was going on. Lucille rushed between the two boys, pulling Eliott away by the hand,  
“Just go home, Lucas.” she said quietly, “You’re embarrassing yourself.”  
A small group of people in their radius laughed and 'oooh’d' at that, and Lucas felt his blood run cold.  
“Yeah, go home Faggot”  
Both Lucas’ and Eliott’s neck snapped up to the boy who had yelled the dreaded sentence; a tall, pasty boy from 2nd year who Lucas had occasionally seen in the hallways.  
“What the fuck did you call me?” Lucas said, voice dangerously low. The crowd shifted uncomfortably, unsure of the atmosphere that was starting to build.  
“I called you a fag-”  
Before the boy could even finish his sentence, Lucas paced over to him and shoved him as hard as he could. The boy toppled over, falling into a group of girls who all shrieked and dropped their drinks. Before Lucas even had time to react, the boy quickly gathered himself from the floor and charged at Lucas, tackling him around the waist and knocking the air from his lungs. The boy was much taller and stronger than Lucas was, and he soon felt the impact of punches against his jaw, causing his head to smack against the floorboards beneath him. The sudden cries from the crowd, and the distant shouts from Yann, Arthur and Basile approaching echoed through Lucas’ skull, but they sounded very distant, almost as if they were words shouted from underwater. Lucas could feel himself slipping from consciousness.  
Then it went silent.  
Lucas felt himself being hauled up by someone, his arm draped around their neck and his body limp in their grasp. Yann.  
“Lulu? Stay with me, buddy” he heard him say, “you’re alright. You’re gonna be alright”  
Lucas opened his eyes blearily and saw the tall 2nd year boy cowering on the ground with a bloody nose, and Eliott pinioning him there – a crazed look in his eye. Even in Lucas’ state, he recognised that he’d never seen him so angry. Eliott’s knuckles had turned a bluish purple from how hard he’d hit the boy. The music had stopped, and the crowd watched in silence as Eliott gripped on to the boy’s collar with a trembling fist, towering over him menacingly.  
“Get out of here” Eliott finally said, voice shaky from rage. The 2nd year remained motionless for a few seconds before he scrambled up and ducked out of the room, leaving a trail of blood dripping from his nose to the doorway. Everyone watched with baited breath as Eliott calmly walked over to Lucas and put his arm around him,  
“Come on, I’ll take you Home” Eliott said softly, guiding the smaller boy through the crowd. Despite everything, Lucas felt relief seep through him as he lent into the warmth of Eliott’s torso. Arthur was about to follow, but Yann put a hand to his chest to indicate that they should let them be. As Eliott passed Lucille, she nodded understandingly to him, worry clear in her eyes at how Lucas was limping,  
“You can call me later” she whispered, clearly still feeling guilty at what she said earlier, and Eliott nodded imperceptibly to her before leaving the room entirely. They quickly emerged from the house out on to the street, hanging on to each other in silence. After a few minutes of walking, Eliott stopped and turned to Lucas, brushing the loose strands of hair from his face before enveloping him into a hug. Lucas closed his eyes and drew his arms around the taller boy’s neck, pressing his face into his shoulder and breathing in his cologne.  
“God, don’t scare me like that again”, Eliott mumbled into Lucas’ ear, and Lucas could only hug him tighter before saying, “Only if you promise the same”.


	2. So, who are you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucas and Eliott spend the night talking at Lucas' empty flat after the disastrous friday night party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some angsty fluff, hopefully you like it. There's no smut, but maybe that can change.

Saturday, 1:12 am

Eliott and Lucas were both lying face up on Lucas' bed. Manon was sleeping over at Emma’s, and Mika had gone clubbing – meaning he wasn’t coming home until Sunday morning – and so they had the place to themselves. Despite the drowsiness that Lucas had felt before, he now suddenly felt wide awake. The alcohol had long since worn off, and the memories from the party that were replaying in his head were becoming more coherent with every passing second. He wished he could forget everything, or better yet he wished everyone else would forget too - especially Eliott.  _God,_ Lucas groaned in his head,  _I can't believe I said all that shit to him._ The flat was oppressively silent, as if the entire building was holding its breath in anticipation for something, but Lucas didn't quite know what yet.

They had left all the lights off, but the glow from the streetlamps outside illuminated the bedroom enough for Lucas to see that Eliott was wide awake too. Neither of them had gotten undressed; instead they had stayed fully clothed with only their shoes kicked off to the floor, lying next to each other in complete silence.

“Lucas.” Eliott whispered, uncertainly.

The name hung in the air like heavy smoke, and Lucas' eyelids fluttered slightly at the husky sound.

“Yes?” Lucas responded calmly, making sure not to give away any sign of emotion, though he was finding it difficult.

“Will you hold my hand?”

Lucas' heart jolted, and it took every inch of him not to turn and kiss him right then and there. Instead he exhaled slowly and, with his eyes still to the ceiling, slowly reached to the right of him, fumbling for the other boy’s hand. Their fingers slotted together like a final piece of a puzzle falling into place, and both were painfully reminded of the first time they had properly done this. It was when they first kissed.

Lucas tilted his head slightly so that he could watch the light play attractively over Eliott's profile. _God, he really is pretty._

Lucas hated himself for being so enthralled by Eliott simply existing next to him.

* * *

Amongst the immense silence, Eliott’s mind was screaming. The feel of Lucas’ soft, delicate hand in his own, so tangible and real, was only filling him with more want. The long, thin fingers that had danced beautifully over the piano were against his own, pressing lightly against his palm and dragging circles over his knuckles - it was driving him crazy.  
Eliott allowed himself to shift his gaze from the beams of orange light fragmented on the ceiling over to Lucas himself, and this time his breath did hitch.

He had never seen someone look so beautiful, let alone someone  **that** beautiful looking straight back at him.

Strands of Lucas’ dark hair had fallen over his forehead, framing his large blue eyes that were underpinned by an even larger purple bruise. The dark cut on Lucas’ lip was even more prominent in the dark, and it filled Eliott with a deep sense of anguish that Lucas had suffered because of him. That Lucas had been beaten because of him. It made Eliott feel even worse that he found that these scars only made Lucas even more beautiful– it made him want to protect him from the world, and kiss him, and tell him everything would be alright.  
But Lucas' eyes were filled with pure pain. The image of Lucille sneering at him as she leant into Eliott, that “I need some time” text that he felt was tattooed on the inside of his eyelids, still haunted his mind like a dark cloud. 

"You're beautiful." Eliott said quietly, not even aware that he was thinking out loud. As soon as the words were out, Lucas' gaze changed.

“You can’t..." Lucas began, shaking his head incredulously, and Eliott tightened his grip on Lucas' hand,

  
"Can't what?" he asked, voice clearly panicked.

"Just…just do this. You can’t just act as if everything hasn’t changed between us.”

Eliott quickly sat up and turned his entire body to Lucas,

"Lucas." he said, taking Lucas' face with his hands, "nothing has changed about how I feel about you."

Lucas swallowed, "Do you want me to read that text back to you?"

Eliott stared at Lucas, mouth slightly agape with lost words,

"I..."

Lucas’ bottom lip trembled, and soon tears started to slide down his eyelashes in thick droplets before splashing on to the bedsheet beneath them,

"I've memorised it, so I can tell you now if you've already forgotten."

"I haven't forgotten." Eliott murmured whilst clasping at Lucas' face, drying each tear that fell.

There was a silence between them for a few moments, and Eliott was about to explain. Explain everything. When -

“God, I wish I never met you.”

Eliott faltered, his hands stilling on Lucas' face, the air knocked from his lungs.

"Lucas..."

  
Lucas stared back at him, determined not to back down, not yet.

  
“If I knew this is how much it’d hurt, then I would have walked home after the foyer meeting.” Lucas whispered, his gaze penetrating through Eliott’s soul.

Eliott was breathing audibly now, his chest rising and falling rapidly, almost as if the words themselves had strangled him.  
He felt tears fill his eyes as he realised the deep aching pain Lucas was feeling because of him. He let them glisten in his eyes as he brought his hand back over to Lucas’ before they fell freely over his cheekbones.

“I’m so sorry” Eliott whispered, brushing Lucas’ bruised eye gently with his free hand, “God, I’m so, so sorry I hurt you”.  
Eliott silently reached up to slide a hand through Lucas’ hair before pulling him close to his chest. Lucas hauled himself up into the crook of Eliott’s neck and shuddered with silent sobs, his fists balling up the material of Eliott’s t-shirt. Lucas was too tired to pretend that he wanted to resist Eliott's embrace, because the reality was that all Lucas had been thinking about for the past few weeks was getting to experience _**this**_ again, at least one last time. Eliott breathed a sigh of relief as Lucas' body slotted into his, the ache that had been weighing him down since he sent that text was punctured, and at least for a few seconds he could pretend that nothing had changed.

* * *

Gradually, as their cries subsided, it fell silent again – the only sound coming from the soft whir of a car driving on the streets below. Lucas was suddenly aware of how close they were. Eliott had wrapped both his arms around Lucas’ frame, and Lucas’ leg was slung across Eliott’s lap, his head resting beneath Eliott’s chin. The deep scent of Eliott’s cologne was intoxicating to Lucas, and he moved his head slightly upwards until he was resting on Eliott’s collarbone, trying to get closer – always closer. Eliott was absentmindedly stroking Lucas' hair, running his fingers lazily through the strands when -

“Lucas?” Eliott said hoarsely, before swallowing with uncertainty.

“Hmm?”

“Will you… will you kiss me?”

There was a silence. Eliott squeezed his eyes shut in fear of what Lucas would respond with, expecting for him to shuffle away from him in disgust, for him to stand and tell him to get out, for him to laugh and say ‘oh, you want me now?’.

But none of that happened.

Lucas slowly withdrew from Eliott's shoulder, and it was only then that Eliott realised that Lucas' breathing was just as erratic as his own. Lucas' face were slick with tears, and his hair had been ruffled to the point that it fell haphazardly over his eyes, and it took everything Eliott had not to tackle him in a hug and apologise all over again. Lucas slowly raised a trembling hand to Eliott's face, brushing away the dampness from his cheekbone, before gently leaning in. Eliott's eyes fluttered shut, and soon he felt the warm response of Lucas' lips on his own.

It felt like breathing again.

* * *

 It was a slow, sweet kiss that ended when Lucas pulled away, breath heavy in his throat. They stared at each other for a moment, gazes tender and questioning. 

“You know…”, Eliott said suddenly, the deep baritone of his voice humming in Lucas’ ears,

“…sometimes I get confused. Sometimes I get so confused I hardly know what I’m doing, what I’m feeling, or even who I am. Sometimes I can get so messed up, I think I’m someone else. Lucille used to tell me who I was, and I would believe her – because she was always right. But lately, I feel like she’s been lying to me. She’s been telling me I’m someone else, and right now, it’s like I’ve woken up after being asleep for so long. It’s like I know who I am, and I can see clearly now for the first time in years.”

  
“So who are you?” Lucas murmured, fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on the back of Eliott's neck. Lucas' large blue eyes were trained on Eliott now, pupils blown wide like pools of ink.

  
“I’m Eliott Démaury.”

  
“And what can you see?” Lucas asked, rather breathlessly. 

 Eliott's gaze fell uncertainly to the floor, but Lucas guided his face back with a gentle finger to his chin. 

"What can you see, Eliott?" Lucas repeated, his voice softer now, and Eliott's face broke into an earnest smile,

 

 

“That I’ve fallen in love with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed :) let me know if you want another chapter because I'd like to write more of this story.


End file.
